124 – New Year in Derbyshire

I’m on a stealth visit to Derbyshire and the family bosom. Yes, I caved in. The pond, the elusive boar, the burnt out autumn landscape, the shrieking owls, the sentinel like beech trees, all finally got too much. Continue reading “124 – New Year in Derbyshire”

123 – The Deer and The Hunt

A cold morning in Queaux. I rise early and listen to the dogs yelping from over the hill at Le Crochet. It’s the big hunt before Christmas and I tell you this. I wouldn’t want to be a member of the pheasant, deer or boar family today. Continue reading “123 – The Deer and The Hunt”

122 – The Run in Queaux

A perfect morning. As still as a train in an abandoned station. So I stretch next to the pond flexing my back high into the air like an awakening cat. I feel like a ballerina looking forward to a dance. Beech leaves falling helplessly from their branches into the cold water. Confetti fluttering down onto a flawlessly crafted mirror. Continue reading “122 – The Run in Queaux”

121 – Deadline Day

For my own personal sake, I created a number of deadlines before writing my novel. I’m addicted to routine, always have been. A hangover from ten years at boarding school. I like to know when things are happening and for how long. No wishy-washy it could be anytime, or I’m not sure, or your guess is as good as mine. No, no, no, no, no, no. I need time, I need dates, I need places. Continue reading “121 – Deadline Day”